


One True Magic

by ysse_writes



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-23
Updated: 2007-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:16:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1633487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ysse_writes/pseuds/ysse_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Childermass learns to read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One True Magic

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Sorry if you were disappointed by the lack of actual sex. This story really should be just rated R but I mentioned actual body parts and the F word and I wanted to play it safe with the rating. Also, I suck at sex scenes. (Not literally. XD )   
>  2\. The incredibly sappy title was inspired by Alice Hoffman's oft-quoted "Books may well be the only true magic." I also suck at titles. 
> 
> Written for Tree Wishes

 

 

Vinculus was gone again.

Childermass pursed his lips and glared at the empty room, stifling the urge to curse aloud. It would be useless, even dangerous. The magic newly returned to England had a tendency to be volatile. Not only that but he had many of his books open, for easy access in case he needed more information and some of those tomes were so old, so rife with magic, that the slightest show of power, or even mere intent, could spark off something irreversible. 

He had been so engrossed in studying a copy of a particularly complicated mark he'd recently discovered behind Vinculus' neck, an intricate sigil that looked somehow familiar but refused to be identified. When he'd finally looked up from his books, needing to see the original mark to be certain his interpretation was accurate, he realized the room was silent and Vinculus was gone. Gone from the room, and gone from the house.

He should have gone immediately, he thought now, should have started searching as soon as he noticed Vinculus was gone, but the meaning of the sigil had seemed so near to revealing itself to him, an itch on his brain. He felt compelled to stay and continue studying the sigil. Unfortunately, to no success, as usual.

He should have known better than let his guard down, he supposed, and, in fact, did. He'd learned to tune out Vinculus' constant prattling early on, turning it to a dull roar of white noise out of necessity. In the early days of their partnership, Childermass had found Vinculus' chatter-- endless and constant-- to be so intolerable that he had to send him out of the room to be able to think, or work, or sleep. It didn't take long to discover Vinculus had the unfortunate habit of disappearing, wandering away on search of ale or companionship (usually female) at any opportunity. 

It did not seem to matter how many guards Childermass hired to keep watch or what wards he would place on the doors of his house. Be it the middle of the afternoon or the early morning hours, Vinculus would disappear the moment Childermass took his eyes off him. Not even sleeping in the same room helped; Vinculus would always be gone when Childermass woke up. And neither did it seem to matter how many servants Childermass sent after the errant Book, they would always return alone, empty-handed and somewhat embarrassed. Despite his rough appearance and manners, Vinculus seemed to possess a strange charm that, to a certain extent, allowed him to somehow compel some people to do his wishes. Childermass had heard a story once, from Jonathan Strange himself, perhaps, that Vinculus had charmed a group of children from providing him with pies stolen right from out their own mothers' cooling racks. Apparently his servants were equally susceptible and Childermass would inevitably have to go after Vinculus and bring him back himself.

There were times Childermass suspected Vinculus was a more powerful magician than he claimed, but Vinculus insisted that he did nothing but walk out and walk away. Vinculus had once claimed that spells had no effect upon him and Childermass wondered if it was perhaps a new strange magic attached to the Book of Magic itself, to protect itself from harm.

Childermass considered his ire justified. For one thing, he was constantly alarmed that the Book would simply vanish one day, to be lost as it had been for so many years. Also, he was no longer some mere manservant, much less the tutor of some errant school boy. The constant searches and retrievals were proving to be tiresome and a waste of his precious time.

It wasn't as if his situation was any particular hardship on Vinculus, after all. Childermass did all the work and all Vinculus had to do, essentially, was sit still and let Childermass study him. In exchange he lived quite comfortably and had the means to indulge his surprisingly expensive tastes. That was a puzzle, truly. Vinculus had spent most of his life as a petty, usually penniless, fortuneteller and vagabond-- when did he have the opportunity to develop such epicurean standards? Childermass did not begrudge the cost of keeping Vinculus close. What he did begrudge, and quite bitterly, was the hours Vinculus wasted with his incessant complaints and his petty games.

That wasn't even the worst of it, fumed Childermass. Even when Vinculus was _there_ he still managed to hinder Childermass' work. The man would simply not cooperate,was simply incapable of staying still. Each time he thought he was nearing understanding, Vinculus would move -- shift or twitch or yawn -- and the character or marks would seem to rearrange themselves into an entirely different pattern and Childermass would have to begin once more from scratch.

He would have used magic to bind Vinculus, if he could have, freeze him into place if it was at all possible. However, not only was Vinculus proving to be strangely resistant to any spell Childermass attempted to cast upon him, the magic returning to England was still so unpredictable, so volatile, that he was reluctant to cast any spell that required any significant release of power, upon an untested subject. It was one of the reasons deciphering the King's Book was so urgent.

The legends regarding the possessiveness and paranoia of John Uskglass when it came to magic were well known. Many texts claimed that the King purposely made the book unreadable, so that none but he himself could read it. Childermass believed otherwise. Books, by their very nature, were meant to be read. John Uskglass could have used the very stars themselves to keep his records, if he had so chosen. That the King chose ink only suggested that he meant his words to be read by human eyes.

There had to be a reason that the Book survived, despite its change of form, an explanation for why the markings on Vinculus' skin changed, and a logic as to why the self-proclaimed prophet crossed his path.

Magic was back in England; of that there was no doubt. True magic. Yet, for the most part, the magicians of England were adrift, not certain sure how to use the magic or what purpose it should serve. The Book of Magic contained great power but of far more importance to Childermass was the guidance of his King. Surely, the King had known that magicians of England would need his wisdom in this magical rebirth and was utterly certain this needed guidance would be found in the Book of Magic.

Now if only that fool of a Book would sit still long enough to be read!   
  
  
  
He found Vinculus at the fifth tavern he entered, sandwiched between two pretty barmaids and a female patron, all of whom scurried away as he approached. There, again, was a demonstration of Vinculus' strange charm. The man had managed to woo and wed five wives, as far as Childermass knew, not to mention charm any number of patrons into giving him their money. Of course, Vinculus' appearance and hygiene had improved in the pampered months he'd stayed with Childermass, but Childermass still considered the attraction somewhat a mystery. 

Childermass' features had become more and more pinched with each tavern he visited, his fury rising with each step he took. It was the same story, time and again, and this was no exception. The silly man simply refused to understand. So much wasted time already, and no end in sight.

"Childermass, my friend," said Vinculus, raising his tankard in greeting. "A timely arrival, as always. I fear I seem to have lost my purse."

There was no purse, Childermass knew; Vinculus had no money. Childermass threw a bag of coins at the barkeep who was hovering near the table and pulled up a chair beside Childermass. He'd done this enough times that not only did he recognize the workers and some of the regulars, he knew that Vinculus would not leave unless he'd was three sheets to the wind and had thus become utterly tractable. The barkeep brought him a tankard of ale and Childermass took a long draught, hoping it would help cool his ill temper.

"Good job," Vinculus congratulated him, jovially. "After all, isn't there that saying - all work and no play?"

"I would keep silent and let me finish my ale in peace, if I were you," advised John Childermass, tightly. "I continue to be unamused by your behavior."

Vinculus snorted. "I put it to you, Mr. Childermass, that if anyone in this tavern is incapable of being amusing, it would be none other than yourself." He grinned. "Come now, do you really expect me to simply sit still and silent while I'm poked and prodded every which way?"

"I am currently considering feeding you to a python," Childermass informed Vinculus, icily. "I could then simply wait for the snake to breed, skin its offspring, and be free to read the Book at my leisure."

Vinculus snorted again. "Attempt to read it, you mean," he replied, rolling his eyes. "So like a magician, to go about the task in such a roundabout way. Why not simply skin me yourself, hang me over your mantle?"

"Don't tempt me," replied Childermass, evenly. "I have just the frame for it."

"Huh," Vinculus said. "I dare say I'd make a very interesting lampshade, myself." He signaled the barkeep for another round of ale. "In any case, you are here, you might as well enjoy yourself, if you are at all capable of it. Consider it a celebration."

"I recognize no cause for celebration," Childermass returned.

Vinculus mimed being dismayed. "Why, sir, how you cut me. How quickly you forget. It is ten years today, sir, since our paths first crossed. Ten years since that day I delivered the prophecy to Gilbert Norrell's house in London. _I reached out my hand..._ Ten years! Is that not remarkable? "

Childermass' hand throbbed suddenly, curiously. Had he been writing overmuch? He didn't believe he had. He clenched and opened his hand a few times to dispel the pain. " _Two magicians shall appear in England..._ " The fragment of the prophecy seemed to come out of his mouth of its own accord. 

"It's all very strange, is it not?" laughed Vinculus. "And now we -- a servant and a street magician -- could be responsible for guiding the future of magic in England, according to you. I dare say your master -- your former master -- would be quite scandalized at your efforts." He laughed again, more loudly. "Particularly at your lack of success."

Childermass refrained from pointing out that his failure was largely the fault of Vinculus himself. "Ten years. And still you persist in rejecting the urgency of our mission, our task?" . 

Vinculus shook his head. "I have done my part. The prophecy has come to pass; magic is back in England."

Childermass set down his tankard with more force than necessary. "Magic is back in England, yes. Powerful and volatile magic, where none have been able to use it or study it properly for centuries. It is wonderful, of course, but also very dangerous. We will destroy ourselves with this gift if we are not careful. Do you not understand how important you are?"

"Am I?" Vinculus returned. "And yet a mere moment ago you were threatening to skin me, feed me to a serpent. You have made it very clear, magician, just how important you consider me to be." 

Vinculus must be drunker than usual, Childermass thought. He sounded less obnoxious than usual, more sad and aggrieved. He attempted to sound reasonable. "You are restless," Childermass said, "and grow more so every day. I understand your frustration."

"Do you?" Vinculus challenged once more. "I have been the Book all my life and I am tired of this burden." Vinculus lowered his head, morosely. "I do not understand what more the King requires," he added, softly. "After all, the last Reader is dead." 

"I am near to understanding the King's Letters," Childermass said, sounding more definite than he felt. "Once I do, all I need to transcribe the words once and you will be free."

The look Vinculus gave Childermass was half-mocking, half-reproachful. "Admit it, you have been studying me for months and you are still in complete darkness." 

"I am near," Childermass repeated, stubbornly, ignoring the niggling doubt starting to rise in his breast. He took another drink. He'd lost count of how many he'd had, but certainly far less than Vinculus. "Study takes time," Childermass pointed out, "and study of magic may take a lifetime." 

"And is that to be the rest of my life, then?" Vinculus demanded. "Can you guarantee that your efforts will bear fruit, that I am not wasting my life here, a captive in your house?"

"I do not think my house is such a terrible place to live," replied Childermass, curtly. He was feeling slighted, for some reason. Instead of cooling his head the ale only seemed to fan his ire. "Nor do I believe your life before had been so full and accomplished. You said so yourself, you have been the Book all your life. That is all you have ever been. What else is there for you, if you leave my house?"

Vinculus was the one who looked slighted now. "I have five wives," he said, loftily. "Five women who love me. And instead of being with them I am stuck here with _you._ " Childermass rolled his eyes, but Vinculus was too incensed to notice. "Possibly, I also have sons somewhere. And before all this Strange and Norrell business, I had all manner of friends and admirers. And beyond that, sir, I had the _road_ , all of England at my feet and adventures aplenty."

"You were also constantly filthy, cold and hungry. And, if memory serves, someone tried to _hang_ you. I dare say it wasn't the first time someone did, either."

Vinculus gaped at Childermass, incredulous, then laughed hollowly. "Yes," he agreed, readily, "and it was still better than _this_!"   
  
  
  
Childermass didn't know why he suddenly thought of it then. Or even, why he didn't think of it sooner. It was the ale, perhaps, or perhaps his frustration had simply reached the tipping point. Whatever the match, now that the idea had been sparked in his mind, his brain suddenly started hurtling along at faster-than-light. 

It was an evil idea, he admitted, as he carried the drunk and unconscious body of Vinculus to the carriage and made his way homeward. But certainly no less evil than the thousands of tortures he had already imagined inflicting upon Vinculus throughout the months they had been together. Certainly this would be less evil than actually murdering and skinning the man. It wasn't as if he meant to hurt him, after all, the Book was too precious to damage. 

He didn't know why he suddenly thought of it then, but now that he had, it seemed so simple, so logical, so practical. 

More than that, it felt _right._   
  
  
  
"Good morning," Childermass said, almost pleasantly, as Vinculus' eyelids slowly and reluctantly fluttered open, then shut again quickly against the light. Childermass had finished preparing just in time. He would not have thought Vinculus would waken for half a day more at least, considering the amount of ale he'd imbibed but he was . It was no doubt his sense of preservation, heightened by the Book's Magic.

Vinculus groaned again, raised his arm to shield his eyes from the light only to have to be stopped short by the chains attached to his wrists. His eyes flew all the way open and he winced both at the light and the sudden pain in his arms.

He'd attempted to bind Vinculus before but the other magician had always been strangely resistant to magic. Strange, though Childermass, that it hadn't occurred to him till now that there was a far simpler way.

"What in Hades--"

Vinculus had been lying on his stomach while asleep. He tried to shift, sit up to get a better handle on the situation only to be hindered by more chains, strapping him down at the waist and at the ankles. He realized then that he was also quite totally naked. He managed, however, not without some difficulty, to glare at Childermass. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Childermass shrugged, calmly. "I am doing what I have been doing these past months, studying the King's Letters. I have decided it was necessary to be more forthright with my methods. You refuse to say still of your own volition, thus I fear I must take matters into my own hands. I consider this solution is immensely practical."

"I never agreed to this," growled Vinculus. "Set me free, this instant."

"You keep insisting you are a captive here," Childermass pointed out, "with no choice and no freedom, therefore your consent is immaterial. I wish to have the knowledge you carry and will brook no more interruptions of my study. You will lie there, unmoving and silent, like a true Book should, or suffer the consequences."

"For all your posturing you are a barbarian," sneered Vinculus, struggling harder against his bonds. 

"And this surprises you?" returned Childermass, coldly. "You said so yourself, I have done far worse in the pursuit of my ambitions. Be grateful. Certainly this is less arduous, for you at least, than all the other methods I have considered heaping upon your head. You only need to lie there and I will see to your every need. Refuse to cooperate and I can make your daus very unpleasant. You may find there are things in this world far far worse than being fed piece by piece to a giant serpent." He stood up. "Now, then. Would you like some breakfast?"   
  
  
  
Vinculus protested loudly and resisted mightily in the beginning, kicking and screaming to be set free. He soon learned it would do him no good. Childermass would merely tighten his bonds so that he could not move, gag him so he could not make a sound, and simply continued studying the sigils. 

Childermass loosened the bonds at noon so Vinculus could eat, asked politely if he needed to use the facilities, then simply retightened them when Vinculus cursed him and tried to escape. 

By nightfall, Vinculus had grown still and silent; fuming, exhausted and humiliated by the day's trials. He fell asleep on one occasion, still feeling the after-effects of his night of drinking. To his embarrassment he woke and find that the servants had somehow come, washed his body and changed the linens, all while he was asleep. Childermass stated he was starting smell offensive, and it was proving to be distracting. 

For Childermass-- perhaps it was simply that Vinculus actually was still and quiet, for once, or perhaps it was that he was feeling an enormous vindictive pleasure in having the other man under his power. Whatever it was, far from finding the lack of progress frustrating, he was in fact feeling rather accomplished. The sense of _rightness_ that he felt that night before only grew. The certainty that he was standing at the edge of the knowledge and all he had to do was lift the veil and it would all be revealed to him was becoming stronger and stronger with each passing moment. There is a moment when casting a spell for the first time when a true magician knows that it has worked, that he has tapped into power, and that was how John Childermass was feeling at that moment. He could practically hear the knowledge, hear John Uskglass' voice calling out to him, taunting him. His fingers tingled when he tried to recreate the sigils for his records; a tingling that was almost familiar, like a fragment of a memory, a name that was on the tip of his tongue. It was _there_ , this knowledge, if only he could find the key.

He was not even consciously thinking when he reached out and touched Vinculus' skin, acting purely on impulse to trace a complicated series of curlicues that reminded him of eels swimming in the river with the tip of his finger. As Vinculus shuddered, the symbols seemed to shift with the movement of his skin, flaring a brighter blue. As the glow faded, Childermass felt the knowledge, the meaning of the symbol stamped inside his mind, clear as day, as if it had always been there.

So simple, he thought again. So bloody obvious.

So obvious that he was afraid he'd made a mistake. That he was perhaps hallucinating, or had simply fallen asleep and was somehow dreaming he'd found the answer. He tried a different symbol, tracing a bird-like pattern on Vinculus' nape. It happened again, the same way exactly. Vinculus shivered from his touch, the symbol shimmered and suddenly Childermass had always known what the symbol meant. 

Childermass was enraptured. He wondered if this was actually what a child in a toy store or a person taking opiates felt like. He wanted to touch every place, every mark. He forced himself to stop, to make notes about the two symbols. He did not think he would forget, but he wanted to be certain that he would not lose the knowledge, that there would be a way to share it with the other English magicians. This time he was able to reproduce the symbols accurately. 

It was then that he noticed that Vinculus, who had been still and quiet all this time, had started shaking, his breathing became labored. 

"Does it hurt?" he asked, quietly, suddenly worried. 

Vinculus remained silent, continued to keep his face averted.

Vinculus understood what was happening, Childermass knew, and wondered if he was sulking or enraged because Childermass had found the key. Despite all his attempts to hinder Childermass, Vinculus' secret was no longer a secret.

"Then rejoice," Childermass said. "We've done it. The King has granted both our wishes. You are no longer a Book without a Reader. And I,-" Here he could not keep the triumph from his voice, "I _am_ the Reader."   
  
  
  
Childermass tried not to hurry, tried to record each and every symbol he touched faithfully before he moved on to the next. He grew more elated with each new discovery, was greedy to learn more. In comparison Vinculus had become more and more quiet, more sullen, if that was possible. 

Childermass had to stop halfway through one symbol, longer than some, which snaked across Vinculus' lower back only to loop and disappear under his thigh. He requested that Vinculus move his leg, perhaps turn around so the rest of the symbol could be seen but Vinculus did not move. He had been so biddable the last few hours that Childermass was almost surprised at the resistance. Childermass repeated his question, and was again ignored. Impatient, Childermass put his hand on the thigh to get it to move, lift, so he could get to the rest of the symbol. Vinculus shuddered again but continued to resist. 

Childermass sighed. He had hoped not to force the issue any more than he already had but he certainly was not going to be hindered now. "If you do not turn around yourself," he told Vinculus, sternly, "then I will call the servants and have them turn you. And I will ask them to stay, I will have them hold you down, turn your body whichever way I deem necessary, until I finish. Is that what you want?"

It took some moments before Vinculus slowly shook his head. 

"It's good you decided to be reasonable," Childermass said. "Now show me the rest of the mark."

Vinculus did not answer, instead slowly sat up, lifting the offending leg so Childermass could see the necessary sigil. Childermass noted that Vinculus kept his his face and eyes averted. He seemed ashamed, embarrassed by his nakedness, which momentarily confused Childermass. Surely not? he thought. Hadn't Vinculus danced naked upon the side of the road, that day they discovered that the writing upon his person had changed?

Looking closer, Childermass thought Vinculus seemed oddly young, with his face flushed and his body shivering and gleaming with perspiration. Childermass was well aware of how old Vinculus actually was, but as he studied Vinculus' profile and suddenly realized that the man was somewhat attractive, far more attractive than his hawkish features and his age warranted. He shook his head. Was this more of the Book's magic? Was it affecting him as well? Or was it simply that he was still drunk and flushed with his triumph? His hand throbbed again, far more painfully than it the past night, and there seemed to be a strange brightness to the air, a queer sensation in his chest.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the odd sensation that suddenly came over him.

He located the sigil he had been studying earlier and followed it once more with his finger. The letter shimmered and Childermass had half-turned away to record the meaning when Vinculus shuddered again. It was then that Childermass discovered why Vinculus had been so quiet, why he could not look Childermass in the face.

Vinculus' manhood was erect. 

John Childermass had that feeling again, of things falling into place. Strangely, far from feeling any confusion or embarrassment, the sight of Vinculus' arousal only increased his euphoria. This, too, seemed but logical, inevitable, _right._ He felt the throbbing in his hand again, and reached out to Vinculus.

Vinculus flinched but the chains prevented him from moving away.

The markings on Vinculus' front seemed far more complicated than those upon his back, larger, contained more power. There was knowledge there, too, but of a different sort. Something bigger that could not be understood right away, that needed further exploring. When he touched them, using his hand and not simply his fingertip, they not only shimmered, but also emitted heat. There was a strange texture to them, not as apparent as the writing on Vinculus' back, and even seemed to smell different. He had the sudden inexplicable urge to taste Vinculus' skin.

Vinculus shuddered again as he felt Childermass' breath, his tongue on his skin. "Don't," he said, the first words he'd spoken to Childermass in hours. "Stop."

It was the magic, the knowledge, thought Childermass. It was dizzying, intoxicating. Surely that had to be the only explanation for the thrill Vinculus' excited body was giving him and for the answering arousal within his own.

Suddenly, this pursuit seemed more urgent than the recording of the King's Letters for posterity. Vinculus tried to stop Childermass' hand but the chains would not let him. "Stop," he said, again. "There is no need, there is no writing there."

Childermass smirked. "Perhaps the King saved this area for another purpose," he said. 

A desperate sound escaped Vinculus as Childermass touched his member. Childermass was aware that Vinculus' shaking, the heat of his skin, was no longer due to the magic but was due to something more primal; a purely physical response. 

"Shall I touch you more?" Childermass asked, somewhat mockingly. "I wonder if it is only my hands that affect you so." He leaned down and touched his lips to a rounded mark surrounding Vinculus' left nipple.

Vinculus started shaking. "Stop!" Desperately, he used his used his whole strength to turn away from Childermass, to dislodge the touch of Childermass' hands and body from his own.

Childermass ignored his protests, capturing the bound hands with his own. Now he felt compelled to taste Vinculus lips. It would have seemed a ludicrous urge a day ago, but it felt as if learning how Vinculus tasted would be his greatest discovery yet.

Vinculus actually _whimpered_ when Childermass' mouth touched his. Childermass had never felt more powerful as when Vinculus' mouth opened under the onslaught of his kiss.

Before he knew it, he had pushed down Vinculus down upon the bed. The bed creaked in protest and he tasted Vinculus' blood in his mouth.

Childermass stopped, as if shaken free from a trance. It dawned on him, suddenly, what he was doing. He was not a man to lose control, nor a man who put the dictates of his body before his duty to his King. He stood up away from Vinculus, wiping the taste of blood from his mouth. I apologize," he said, shame and confusion staining his features. "I did not mean for that to happen." He turned away then and walked to the door. "I shall have the servants bring you your clothes. I will instruct them to unbind the chains. No one will stop you if you wish to leave."

He had his hand upon the door when he heard Vinculus call his name. 

Childermass turned back, slowly. Vinculus was no longer facing the wall, no longer trying to hide his need and arousal. "Childermass," Vinculus said, desperation in his voice. "John. Please. Don't leave me like this. Touch me. Help me." 

Childermass still did not understand. Vinculus had told him, once, that everything that had come to pass since they'd met, including the coming together of Norrell and Strange to return magic to England, was a mere spell that John Uskglass had cast. Perhaps so were they. Childermass had always considered himself the King's loyal servant, and truthfully if this was to be his fate, he did not find it so terrible. 

He did not think that was how Vinculus felt, however.

"Vinculus," Childermass said, and he wondered that his voice could ever sound so gentle. "Understand, if I stay, I will do more than simply touch you."

"You have always wanted the Book," Vinculus returned, just as softly. 

Childermass was not a man to lose control, nor was he a man to run away. "Yes," he admitted. "And now it appears I want _you._ "

Vinculus drew in a great shuddering breath. Then, he looked distastefully upon the chains still binding his hands and body. As if reacting to his displeasure, the chains crumbled to dust and fell to the ground. 

Wordlessly, Vinculus held out his arms.

Childermass walked back straight into them.   
  
  
  
He found himself walking in a strange forest. One moment he was in bed with Vinculus, fucking the man's brain's out, and in the next he was walking beside a man who seemed familiar but was pretty certain he'd never met before.

"So, John Childermass," the man said, grinning wickedly. "Did you enjoy that?"

He should have thought the conversation strange, perhaps, but only found himself grinning in return. "The ways of the King are mysterious indeed," he replied.

The stranger snorted. "Hardly. Sometimes being mysterious does not do one much good, particularly with individuals who need to be hit on the head with a lump of coal before they realize certain things."

"I'm very grateful for the help," Childermass felt compelled to reply.

"Your faith has served me well." The stranger's eyes were warm and soft as he smiled at Childermass. "You are on your way to fulfilling your destiny, both of you, but make no mistake; your journey is far from over. Know your worth, John Childermass. I chose you, from all of my servants, because you understood."

"Understood what?" Childermass asked.

"That Books are more than words, more than mere writing. Every leaf is significant, certainly, but you must look at the forest to understand. The North Star is but a beginning, a guide to find your way. It is by no means the Universe." 

"We've met before, haven't we?" Childermass couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," the stranger replied, "we've met before. More importantly, John Childermass, we _will_ meet again."   
  
  
  
This time, when John Childermass awoke, Vinculus was still by his side.

the end

 


End file.
